These he spread under the awning, and
when he drowsed off, it was to dream of the lovely face he had
seen last in the glow of the moon.
It was in the afternoon of the fourth day that two things
happened--one that he had prepared himself for, and another so
unexpected that for a space it sent his world crashing out of its
orbit. With St. Pierre's wife he had gone again to the ridge-line
for flowers, half a mile back from the river. Returning a new way,
they came to a shallow stream, and Marie-Anne stood at the edge of
it, and there was laughter in her shining eyes as she looked to
the other side of it. She had twined flowers into her hair. Her
cheeks were rich with color. Her slim figure was exquisite in its
wild pulse of life.
Suddenly she turned on him, her red lips smiling their witchery in
his face. "You must carry me across," she said.
He did not answer. He was a-tremble as he drew near her. She
raised her arms a little, waiting. And then he picked her up. She
was against his breast. Her two hands went to his shoulders as he
waded into the stream; he slipped, and they clung a little
tighter. The soft note of laughter was in her throat when the
current came to his knees out in the middle of the stream.
Pages:
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182